


A Day Out

by elesseto



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, have a short drabble, not wholly familiar with writing this ship but hey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:59:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9066952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elesseto/pseuds/elesseto
Summary: Simple drabble for you pie-shippers! Allen and Link have a date.





	

After escaping Starbucks, Allen and Link managed to snag a table in the bustle of the food court, shoppers of all kinds walking around them, the noise in the high-ceiling’d linoleum and glass room roaring in their ears. They sat close together, in order to hear the other speak.

“So what’s her story?” Link asks, sipping his cocoa (he’s not a coffee drinker). 

Allen holds his own cup, sipping after polishing off a crumbly pastry, wiping his fingers on a napkin. He’s studying the woman as she passes, talking furiously into her cell phone. 

“Her babysitter cancelled on her after she left to meet her friends for a day out. It’s the second time, too,” Allen says. He points at a man and his son walking by, the father holding a small backpack with rockets and stars in one hand and and his son dragging his feet, holding the other hand behind him. “What’s his story?”

Link studies the pair intently, a crease forming between his eyebrows. Allen hides a smile; Link takes this game too seriously, but it’s fun watching ideas flick across his face.

“Tantrum,” Link says at last. “It’s over now, but over a desired toy, I believe.”

They continue this way for a while, Allen occasionally checking his phone for the time. At least three couples are in the process of breaking up, while one is searching for a ring. Gaggles of teens and preteens pass by, either giggling far too loudly as they pass or emitting a hard tension between cliques formed in the group. Workers on break tap their toes as they stand in line for lunch, and there are pairs or threes going out for smoke breaks, despite the rain, carrying umbrellas. It’s a fun game, but as Allen checks his phone one last time, he says, “Movie’s about to start.”

Link gets up, gathers the trash and leads the way upstairs to the movie theater, where they manage to snag seats in the middle, surrounded by families and other dates. The lights are still up, and as Allen settles down with his extra large popcorn he points to a pair of girls, one talking away, the other staring at her phone, and asks, “What’s her story?”

“Old friends meaning to reconnect,” Link says at once. “It’s not going well. The one talking is nervous, and the one scrolling lost interest a while ago.”

“That’s kind of sad,” Allen mutters. 

Link shrugged. “You asked.”

The movie’s nothing memorable, and Allen whispers his story guesses for background characters, which spin into far, fantastical things more interesting than the film itself. A man in front of them turns around at one point and whispers furiously at Allen to Shut Up. 

They leave as soon as the credits roll, Allen tossing away the empty popcorn carton and soda. 

“Dinner?” Link asks.

“No, home,” Allen decides. “We have leftovers.”

“I’m still surprised about that,” Link says, side-eyeing Allen with a small, snide grin. Allen shoves Link. 

“Har, har,” he says dryly. Link just smiles, dipping his head.

They eat, watch a better movie, and get ready for bed. Link and Allen compete for mirror space and Allen smoothes some toothpaste down Link’s cheek, and bends over laughing as Link cries out and starts to wipe it. “It’s tingly on my face, ewewew!”

Allen waggles his eyebrows suggestively; Link glares back through the mirror, unamused. Allen finishes brushing his teeth and leaves the room, laughing.

“Don’t even pretend you’re interested, Walker,” Link says as he comes out of the bathroom. 

“You make it too easy, cupcake,” Allen says, climbing into bed. Link sighs heavily.

“Don’t call me cupcake,” he grumbles, climbing in beside Allen, grabbing a book off the nightstand and flicking on the lamp. “I’ve asked you once, I’ve asked you a thousand times–”

Allen leans over and pecks Link on the cheek. “I know,” he says, with a big, shit-eating grin. 

Link smacks Allen with his pillow. Link reads for a while, while Allen watched TV, flipping channels and settling on the Food Network, watching Cake Bosses. Link looks up after a while and they watch together.

On a particularly ambitious design Allen asks seriously, “You think you could do that?”

Link studies what’s happening on the screen for a bit and then says, “Yes, but I’d do it differently. I would use less royal icing, definitely. And more supports for the top tier, too, that looks shaky.”

“You’re not big on icing.”

“No, but no one’s ever complained.”

They chat for a bit until the show ends and then it’s bedtime. Allen flicks off the TV, Link flicks off the lamp. “Good night, Walker,” Link says, and Allen rolls his eyes in the dark.

“I’ve told you,” he says softly, “It’s Allen.”

Link chuckles, and Allen imagines a shit-eating grin. “I know.”


End file.
